


Archery Lesson, and Other Tales

by WitchyBee (orphan_account)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adorable Elven Lesbians, Awkward Romance, F/F, Female Mage Lavellan - Freeform, Fluff, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/WitchyBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some short fics, previously posted on Tumblr, featuring Iris Lavellan and Sera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Archery Lesson

"So you’re Dalish...but you”re not an archer," Sera remarked. She’d joined the Inquisition only a few days ago, already proving to be a great asset. Iris was very pleased to have more elves around, and Sera was like no other elf she’d met before.

She raised an eyebrow at the strange question. “You...did see me set that bandit on fire, did you not?”

"Right, but your clan didn’t always know you were a mage. And I thought all Dalish babies were born with a bow in their hands and a quiver on their back."

"I hope not!" Iris smiled. "So that is what city elves hear about us, is it?"

"One of the better things we hear, yeah. You really never learned to shoot a bow?"

"I was the keeper’s First. I learned magic and studied Elvhen lore. That didn’t leave much time for archery training."

"Yeah," Sera replied, a bit impatiently. It seemed she really wasn’t letting this go. "But what did you do before that? Y'know, when you were a kid that hadn’t accidentally burned somethin' down yet.”

"I...I’m not sure," Iris admitted, trying to cast her mind back to her distant childhood. "It was a long time ago. I remember...I spent a great deal of time with the halla, listening to them and watching how the halla keeper tended to their needs. Maybe I would have become the new halla keeper if I hadn’t been a mage. I don’t know."

"And no archery? At all?"

"I’m sorry to disappoint you," Iris sighed. "We can’t all be hunters, Sera. The Dalish have craftsmen, storytellers, healers and more. Just like in human society, except without the merchants."

"Oh no, this won’t do," Sera declared after a moment’s pause. "Iris Lavellan, how can you be a true elf, a representative of what your people stand for, without conforming to our stereotypes about you? This won’t do at all."

Had anyone else said those words, Iris would be angry. But she could tell that Sera meant no offense. Her tone was warm and lighthearted. This was clearly how she bonded with people, and Iris knew one shouldn’t take themselves too seriously all the time, which she was certainly guilty of.

"Well then...are you going to teach me?"

\----------

It was decided that, for everyone’s safety, Iris would be using blunt arrows. Sera showed her where to set an arrow in the bow, how to draw the bowstring, and when to release it. Iris thought this looked fairly simple.

In practice, however, it was more challenging than she anticipated.

"You should feel your chest muscles expand as you release the bowstring," Sera told her. "Like takin’ a deep breath. Otherwise—" An arrow flew off to the left, completely missing its target. "—well, that happens."

"How did you ever learn to do this?"

Sera grinned. “Years of practice and patience, my dear, not to mention horrible blisters. We can’t all set things on fire with our minds, y’know.”

"That takes considerable practice, too," Iris said. "Although…it did seem much easier to grasp than this. Who taught you?"

"Oh…just some friends. Now, try it again. I’m not givin’ up on ya quite yet."

Sera would move close to her, checking if her stance was correct, and sometimes Sera’s callused fingers touched one of Iris’ arms or hands to adjust its position. All of this felt strangely intimate. It had been a long time since Iris was so close to another woman. Her heart started to beat faster.

"Hey, you all right?"

"Fine," she answered quickly, her face turning red. Oh merciful Mythal, what if Sera thought she didn’t like her? In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. "Sorry. It’s just, uh…."

"It’s okay. It’s gettin’ late, actually; I think that’s enough for now. We’ll make an archer out of you some other time. Come on, we should get back before Cassandra or Josie send out a search party."

Sera started off down the path leading to Skyhold, but Iris just stood there. “Sera?” she called.

The archer stopped and turned around. Creators help her, Sera was even more beautiful in the early evening light. “Yeah?”

"Ma serannas. Thank you…for the lesson."

Sera walked back to Iris and took her hand. Then...she kissed her, just once, soft and sweet. Eyes widening in surprise, Iris felt her lips form a smile. Perhaps she hadn’t messed up, after all.

"My pleasure," Sera replied. "Is that okay? If I kiss you?"

Iris nodded, still struggling to process what had just happened. “More than okay.”

They walked back to Skyhold, hand in hand.


	2. Untitled

"What’s it like in an alienage?" Iris Lavellan asked, her voice hesitant but green eyes alight with curiosity.

"What?" Sera frowned. "Why d’you wanna know about that?"

"Well, it’s just…you ask me questions about the Dalish sometimes, and yet I feel as though I don’t know anything about the fla—your people. City elves, I mean." Iris sighed, frustrated with herself. "Abelas, you don’t have to tell me. I-I shouldn’t have said…"

“‘s all right,” Sera replied. She didn’t appear the least bit offended. “I’ll tell you what I can, if you really want. But most of it’s bloody depressing, y’know.”

Iris nodded. She gave Sera her full attention, as if the archer was her clan’s hahren.

When Sera spoke, her voice lacked its usual humor. “Alienage life’s tough, so you gotta be twice as tough just to survive. Most folks are poor, dirty, and bitter—they don’t know any other life, but they take care of their own. There’s a sort of pride in it. If you’re lucky, you get married off when you come of age. The Dalish are nothin’ more than a legend to ‘em, a myth to be respected and feared.”

"Oh." Iris made a mental note to ask about that arranged marriage part later. So many Dalish clans set themselves apart or above city elves. They never bothered to look at things from the other side. All of them were elves—our people.

"But hey, that’s just how it goes." Sera’s easy grin returned and she leaned in for a kiss. "And y’know what? I’m glad you’re not a legend."


	3. Heights

"You’ve never climbed a tree before? Not even as a kid?"

Iris Lavellan stood at the base of a large oak tree, looking up at Sera’s amused expression. "Well...no," she admitted.

“In the Alienage, there was one tree and us kids had nothin’ to do except climb it. You grew up in a forest!”

“My clan wasn’t always camped in the forest,” Iris pointed out. “Besides, I had other things to occupy myself, like studying magic.”

Sera stared at her. “Andraste’s tits, I had more of a childhood than you did. All right, come on now, get your lovely ass up this tree.”

“I’d rather not.” She bit her lip nervously. “I...I don’t like heights much.”

"I promise you won’t fall, and I’ll even give you a kiss when you get up here."

“Just one?”

"Well, start climbin’ and I might agree to more," Sera said, grinning.

Iris took a deep breath. She grasped a small branch and placed her foot on a knot in the trunk. She carefully made her ascent to the branch where Sera waited, cheering her on. It took every bit of her will not to look down.

Finally, she reached Sera, who gave her scared yet slightly exhilarated lover a proud smile and many kisses.


	4. Doubts

"What if we don’t win?" Iris’ quiet voice drifted through the stillness of their dark bedchamber. She sounded tired, but her mind was evidently wide awake.

"What d’you mean, love?" Sera asked, gently stroking her lover’s hair. "Don’t win what?"

"This fight against the demons. What if we lose?"

"Hey, we can’t lose," Sera tried to reassure her. "It’d make for an awful story if we did, just ask Varric."

"But this isn’t one of his tales. The good guys don’t have to win in real life. I could fail everyone. What if...what if I lost you? I-I don’t think I could bear that, ma vhenan."

The Inquisitor’s voice had become small and uncertain, as though she were a frightened child. Sera pulled her close and brought her lips to one of Iris’ pointed ears.

"You’re not gonna lose me," she said firmly, and felt Iris shiver in her arms as Sera’s breath caressed her sensitive ear. "I will never let that happen.”


	5. Morning

Iris Lavellan lay awake at night counting Sera’s breaths and listening to the steady rhythm of her heart. She was eventually lulled to sleep, her dreams filled with blurry nightmarish images and distorted voices whispering temptations.

Iris opened her eyes. Midmorning sunlight streamed through the windows. Skyhold was coming alive with activity; she could hear soldiers calling to each other outside and people moving around, preparing for the day. Sera was awake, too, sitting upright in bed and smiling softly at Iris.

"G’morning, sleepyhead. Better get up soon or we’ll miss breakfast. Not that I’d mind stayin’ here with you a little longer."

"Gods, it’s almost time for breakfast? I never sleep this late unless I’m ill."

"I know. I was startin’ to get worried," Sera replied lightly. "You snore like an ox, by the way."

"I do not!" she exclaimed, feigning offense. "But you do."

She snorted. “Yeah, well, maybe I do. A bit. You’d know, early bird.”

Iris had always been an early riser. She would awaken just prior to sunrise, well before anyone else in her clan—or Skyhold—until now, apparently. As Iris braided her hair, she realized what had eased her into a peaceful night’s rest.

It had to be Sera’s presence, of course, a warm body to comfort her even while Iris’ spirit drifted through the Beyond. (When she awoke from these dreams, her hand—the marked one—always tingled as if affected by an unknown magical energy. She’d said nothing about it to Solas yet, for she rarely found herself with three hours of spare time, the minimum he would deem necessary to examine her hand.)

"You are feelin’ all right though, yeah?" Sera asked, callused fingers touching her bare shoulder.

"What? Oh. Yes, of course. I was just…distracted." Iris turned her gaze away from her hand to give Sera a reassuring smile. "Ir abelas, emma lath. I seem to be a little out of sorts this morning."

"No worries, love. Some coffee will perk ya right up."

"Coffee? I’ve never heard of it."

"Andraste’s knickers, you’ve never—I mean, how can you even function without coffee?"

"I...don’t know."

"Well come on then, you can try a cup."

The Inquisitor stood and stretched, yawning. Soon she would be expected to make important decisions, lead armies, vanquish evil…but this quiet moment between lovers was simple. Sera embraced her and slowly kissed Iris’ brow, her lips, her neck, the pointed tip of her ear…

"We don’t have time, vhenan’ara," she murmured regretfully. "There’s breakfast to eat and—"

"—demons to kill. Yeah, I know. But you’re gorgeous."

Iris smiled, and kissed her. “Hopefully I will be no less gorgeous after I’ve had some of that coffee.”


	6. Shiver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a prompt I received on Tumblr.

"It’s bloody freezing," Sera complained for approximately the millionth time that evening. She wasn’t wrong. Iris’ clan had faced many harsh winters traveling through the Free Marches, but even that could not have prepared her for a night camped in the Frostback Mountains.

A tent wasn’t nearly as insulated as Dalish aravels. Then again, humans didn’t generally have to live in them for long periods of time. She wondered how the Hero of Ferelden had managed to survive this.

Despite being wrapped up in layers of blankets and furs, and huddled close together in one another’s arms, Sera and Iris both shivered. Even Skyhold—with its stone walls and drafty rooms—was preferable to sleeping on snow-covered ground with only thin fabric between them and the biting wind.

”s bloody freezing,” Sera repeated, shivering against her. “Wish I had a nip of strong drink right about now. That would do the trick.”

An idea occurred to Iris then. She reached for the Beyond and grasped a thread of magic, weaving it into warmth that resonated from her core. The elf’s hand glowed faintly with heat—not enough to burn anyone, just a pleasant sensation to drive back the chill. She touched it to the back of Sera’s neck, slowly moving her palm down her lover’s spine, and then the rest of her body.

"Mmmm," Sera moaned pleasurably, shivering again, but no longer because of the cold. "You spoil me, y’know that?"

Iris responded by pressing a kiss to the archer’s lips, and smiled like she was the most lucky woman in Thedas. It didn’t matter that her own lips were still slightly numb; they would have all night to share this warmth between them.


	7. Sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another drabble for a prompt I received on Tumblr.

Iris watched from the window in her room at a small inn as torrential rain poured down. The sky that night was despairingly dark. Right now she had difficulty understanding why the Orlesian Empire had chosen the sun for its symbol.

But by morning the storm clouds subsided, leaving only damp earth in their wake. Iris and Sera awoke to a room bathed in warm sunlight. They took their time getting out of bed. So much time, in fact, that Cassandra eventually knocked on the door, informing them that the horses were ready to depart and so was everyone else, except apparently Sera and the Inquisitor.

"We’re busy havin’ sex!" Sera called to the Seeker. She grinned mischievously, the sun lighting up her hair.

Iris, blushing, immediately said, “We are not!”

"I don’t care what you do on your own time, but there is work to do now."

Cassandra was right, of course. Iris looked down at the mark on her hand, and was suddenly hit with the full force of this insurmountable task before them. How many people were depending on the Inquisition to save Thedas? Well, they called her the Herald of Andraste, after all.

Iris was somewhat given to melancholy, which her lover knew. Sera took her hand, kissed it gently, and said, “Come on, love. We better go before she kicks the door in.”

Outside the air was crisp and cool. The Inquisition agents mounted their horses and rode through the war-ravaged Orlesian countryside. Sunlight spilled over endless golden fields and vibrant meadows, but also over the remains of devastated villages, and battlefields littered with corpses and scavenging birds.

This wasn’t technically their war, but they would nonetheless have to end it. Orlais must be united in order to repair the Breach, Josephine said frequently. The Inquisition couldn’t do this alone, although at the moment it felt very much like they were.

When the sun reached its height at noon, they stopped for a brief rest. Val Royeaux was still about half a day’s ride away.

"You all right?" Sera asked. The two of them lay in the shade of a great tree.

The day was too lovely to be sad, yet the bright sun contrasted sharply with this war-torn place and hopeless weight of responsibility on her shoulders. But not everything was despair and gloom. Sera was here, bringing laughter and light to all of her darkest days.

"Yeah, ma vhenan, I’m all right," Iris said, surprised to find that she meant it.


	8. Gift

Some days, like today, Sera finds that it’s much harder to remember why she volunteered to do this.

The Inquisition’s agents are in the stables, preparing their mounts for a long ride. It’s morning in late autumn, but Ferelden doesn’t really have autumn, just a mild winter and a winter that kills. A thin layer of frost is clinging to the ground and wind blows bitter cold. Sera can see her breath. She mutters curses, rubbing her hands together for warmth.

"I have something for you."

Sera glances up from her misery and the Inquisitor is there, holding a square of dark red fabric in her gloved hands. She offers this to Sera without another word. The city elf accepts it out of curiosity, noticing first how soft the fabric is and then, after unfolding it and seeing the wooden clasp, she realizes that it’s a cloak. A very fine one, too.

Sera had been given few gifts in her life which didn’t come with a price later on, so she asks, “For me?”

"Yes, of course," Iris replies as if this concept is obvious. "I…I made it for you."

"This like a Saturnalia gift or what?"

The Dalish elf’s brow wrinkles in confusion. “It is a gift, but I’m not familiar with, um…Saturnalia?”

"It’s sort of a big party. Everybody gets drunk and, y’know, gives each other presents."

"Oh."

It’s bloody freezing, and Sera isn’t one to turn down a gift, especially when the Inquisitor put so much effort into making it. She wraps the cloak around herself. Most of the chill she’d felt subsides immediately, and Sera wonders if perhaps this cloak is magical or enchanted to restore heat.

"That symbol on the clasp is sacred to Mythal," Iris informs her. "It’s for protection."

"I need protecting, do I?"

The Inquisitor bites her lip nervously. “Don’t we all?”

She’s got a point there. “Yeah, well…thank you, Iris. This is really something. It means a lot.”

Iris smiles warmly, the tips of her ears flushing pink—but that could just be from the cold. Sera doesn’t want to risk misinterpreting these signs. Maybe Iris wants to be sure all of her companions are safe and warm, and it’s nothing more than that. On the other hand…what’s life without a little risk?

And yet before she can say or do anything, the Inquisitor is called away. Sera mounts her horse, smiling to herself. Iris Lavellan wears her heart on her sleeve which is beautiful and—

Maker help her, this feels dangerously like falling in love.


End file.
